In This Season

I had four days away. Four days. Not a month. Not a sabbatical. Not “I’ve moved to Ibiza and started a new life.” 😂 Just four days. And I needed them. Really needed them. I needed the break from work. I needed the break from routines. I needed the break from being the one who remembers everything, organises everything, anticipates everything and carries everything in the background. And yet preparing to go away felt like a job in itself. There was food to sort. Medication to

Sometimes it’s not the big things that exhaust me. It’s remembering everything. The appointment that needs booking. The form I still haven’t filled in. The email I need to chase. The school thing that needs sorting. The prescription. The childcare. The thing I need to remember to tell somebody when they eventually ring me back. The thing I was supposed to ring somebody else about. And somewhere in the middle of all that, somebody inevitably asks: “Mum, what’s for dinner?” Mat

I’ve been thinking for a while about speaking more openly about SEND parenting. And honestly, I’ve hesitated. Not because I don’t have anything to say. Quite the opposite. There is so much I could say. But there is a line I have always been conscious of. My child’s story belongs to him. His experiences, his challenges, his difficult moments, his diagnosis. They are not mine to turn into content. And yet, I’m beginning to realise that my experience of parenting belongs to me.

We tell overwhelmed parents to rest, exercise, talk to someone, join a support group and make time for themselves. All good advice. But sometimes we're missing a very practical question: what actually needs to be in place to make any of that possible? I believe in self-care. I believe in rest. I believe in counselling. I believe in moving our bodies, spending time with people who make us feel good, setting boundaries and creating moments where we aren't constantly giving to e

My energy levels were low, but I wanted to do something nice with my kids over the weekend. Nothing extravagant. Just a film, a few treats and a couple of hours together. The sort of family outing that seems simple in your mind. But I actually know what it takes to go on a "simple trip to the the cinema". This isn't my first rodeo. The planning, the checking, the packing and the mental list running in the background takes energy. Have we got the drinks? Have we got everythin

You spent six weeks thinking, “Just get me to September.” September arrived. The children went back. So why don't you feel better yet? I'm writing this from my bed on a Sunday. It's late in the afternoon and, quite frankly, I'm shattered. The kids are back at school. We've made it through the first week. There's a little more routine in our lives again and, theoretically, I should be feeling a bit more like myself. Except... I'm tired. I’m weary like a medieval peasant who ha

There are decisions I've made in the past that I would make differently today. Conversations I'd approach differently. Times I would have asked for help sooner. Moments when I would have rested instead of pushing through. Boundaries I would have put in place. Things I wish I'd understood earlier. And when you're someone who is deeply reflective, it's very easy for reflection to quietly turn into judgement. I should have known. Why didn't I see it? I should have handled that b

I found a little note from my daughter today, and it made me wonder whether I've been measuring this summer by the wrong things. We're about halfway through the summer holidays now. And can I be honest? I'm tired. Like ALL the way tired. Like deep in my bones, could-sleep for a thousand years, Disney princess style tired. There were things I planned to do that haven't happened. Places I thought we'd go. Things I wanted to achieve. And some days I simply don't possess the ener

It's been a while since I've written here. For a long time, I felt like I needed to explain where I'd been. Now I realise... The reason I stepped away is the very reason I'm back. The last couple of years have been some of the hardest of my life. As a single mum to two incredible children, one of whom has additional needs, life became less about thriving and much more about surviving. There were school meetings. Appointments. Phone calls. Advocating. Days where I was running

Caregiving, hyper responsibility, and the journey back to self There have been seasons in my life where I carried so much that I forgot I was allowed to need support too. From the outside, people may see strength. They see the things you manage. The problems you solve. The way you keep going. The people you care for. The responsibilities you somehow hold together. What they do not always see is the weight of it. The invisible list running through your mind. The emotional load

The hidden anxiety beneath overthinking, perfectionism, and trying to hold it all together I am an overthinker. Not occasionally. Properly. I can overthink text messages, emails, booking events, conversations, decisions that other people seem to make in seconds. What looks small on the outside can become a full mental spiral on the inside. Should I send that? Did I word it wrong? What if they take it the wrong way? What if I regret it? What if I choose badly? It takes so much

The inner critic, exhaustion, and learning to turn toward yourself again There have been seasons in my life where self compassion felt almost impossible. Not because I did not believe in it. Not because I did not understand the tools. But because I was tired in a way that reached far beyond sleep. For the last 15 months, my son has not been in full time education. But the journey did not begin there. We have been navigating exclusions, challenges, and advocacy for seven years

The hidden cost of measuring your worth through productivity and being needed There was a time in my life when being the one others came to felt natural. As a teacher, I was often the person people approached for support, guidance, or reassurance. I genuinely loved helping. It felt meaningful. It felt like who I was. And the truth is, supporting others can be beautiful. But it can also be depleting, especially when you do not know how to receive support yourself. It is import

There is a type of burnout that lives in the mind. It does not always show up as physical exhaustion first. It can feel like constant thinking. Replaying conversations. Revisiting decisions. Trying to work things out from every angle. From the outside, it can look like thoughtfulness. But internally, it can feel like overwhelm. When Thinking Becomes Constant You might recognise this. Going over something again and again. Trying to make the right decision. Wanting to avoid get

There is a type of burnout that does not always come from pressure or expectation. It comes from giving. Giving your time. Giving your energy. Giving your attention. Again and again. From the outside, it can look like generosity. But internally, it can begin to feel like depletion. When Giving Feels Natural You might recognise this. Being the one who shows up. The one who supports others. The one who notices what people need. Caring can feel natural. It can feel like part of

There is a type of burnout that is often hidden behind high standards. It can look like care. Attention to detail. Wanting to do things well. From the outside, it can be seen as dedication. But internally, it can feel very different. There can be a quiet pressure to get things right. All the time. When Doing Well Doesn’t Feel Like Enough You might recognise this. Putting effort into what you do. Wanting to do things properly. Holding yourself to a high standard. There is noth

There is a type of burnout that can be difficult to recognise. It does not always come from workload. It often comes from giving. Giving time. Giving energy. Giving attention. Again and again. From the outside, it can look like kindness. But internally, it can feel like exhaustion. When Being There for Others Becomes a Pattern You might recognise this. Being the one people turn to. The one who says yes. The one who makes things easier for everyone else. It can feel natural

For several years, I was someone who'd choose a word of the year . It started during a time when I really needed something to hold onto. At the beginning of my burnout journey several years ago, a dear friend introduced me to the idea. It was something she had come across from Melinda Gates. The words replaced New Year Resolutions. And as we were both in a season of healing and self improvement, the words became intentions to guide mindset and encourage action. They helped us

There is a type of burnout that often goes unnoticed. Not because it is not there, but because it is hidden beneath achievement. From the outside, everything can look as though it is working. Tasks are completed. Deadlines are met. Responsibilities are handled. But internally, something feels different. There can be a quiet exhaustion that does not always have space to be acknowledged. When Achievement Becomes Identity You might recognise this pattern. Being the one who gets

"Just ask for help." Simple, right? Something we should just be able to do. But for many of us, particularly those who are used to being dependable, capable, and strong, asking for help can feel anything but simple. It can feel uncomfortable. Unfamiliar. Even unsafe. Because beneath the surface, asking for support is not just about needing help. It is often about identity. The Identity of Being “The Strong One” Can you related to this? You've grown up being the one others rel